The Harder We Fall
by kryscrossed
Summary: Elijah and Hannah had a love that most people envied. It wasn't the perfect life, but it was the perfect love. When haunts from his past start showing up in Elijah's life, he starts to loose his grip on the things he cherishes most in life. Rewrite of RL
1. Prologue

_Howdy everyone! Ok, before you all get extremely confused let me just say this. Yes, this is the same as Real Love: The Forever Kind. No, I have not stopped working on Real Love: The Forever Kind. I'm just going back, and doing a little editing and a little clean up of the first chapters. The title "The Harder We Fall" is the new official title of Real Love, but clearly, I'm going to leave Real Love posted under it's old title, otherwise things will get really confusing. This is the version I recommend you read if you haven't started reading RL yet. Trust me on this, things don't make sense if you read RL straight through, because I changed so many plot points and details as I was writing. Like I said, I'll still be updating Real Love, for those of you who have been reading a long, but feel free to read this one, and get the fresher version. Okay, I'm gonna shut up now and let you read. So, Without further ado, The Harder We Fall!_

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	2. Chapter One

**- ****Chapter One**** -**

Elijah 'Bolt' Henderson drew in a long drag from the end of his cigarette, allowing the smoke to burn his throat and lungs, before finally pushing it out through his lips. He rested his hand on the coarse brick ledge, the only barrier between him and the forty-something foot drop off the side of the roof. He watched the smoke curling up from the glowing tip of the cigarette, lost in a sea of thoughts.

It was only when he heard the sound of heeled shoes clanging up the iron of the fire escape that he was brought back to reality.

"Elijah?"

Bolt turned at the sound of her voice, tossing his spent cigarette on the ground and grinding it out with the heel of his boot. The shadows in his eyes were momentarily pushed away, and a small smile found its way to his lips. "Hannah," he said, breathing her name out. "You're here."

"What're you doing up here?" she asked, crossing the roof to stand next to him. It was cold and she shivered slightly before wrapping her arms around herself for warmth. "It's freezing out."

He didn't answer but, instead, pulled her into his embrace. His arms overlaying hers, Bolt leaned back against that brick wall before clasping his hand around his own wrist, locking her into his tight hold. Hannah, leaned back into him, resting the back of her head on his chest. She loved the warmth he offered and the safe way she felt in his arms.

Bolt buried his face into her hair, breathing in her scent. She smelled of sweetness, a tangy honey scent that always reminded him of her. It was lovely and served to settle his nerves. "Mmm…"

Hannah remained silent for a moment, enjoying the feel of Bolt's cheek nuzzling against her, before her curiosity got the better of her. Even though she had been loving the quiet moment, she broke the silence by questioning him again. "So..."

"So, what?" Bolt replied, his voice muffled by her hair, distracted by her closeness, and forgetting what her question had been.

"So what are you doing up here, Elijah? And smoking, at that? I could smell it the moment I stepped onto the roof," Hannah replied, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "It's horrible, you know."

Bolt grimaced. He had not expected Hannah to find him on the roof – nor find him with a cigarette in his hand. He attempted an apology, hoping she wouldn't be to upset with him "Sorry. I was just feeling a little bothered, that's all."

He had begun smoking almost five years ago; an attempt to take his mind off of the hunger and the cold he often felt as a result of being poor. He knew Hannah hated it; she couldn't stand the smell. So, he had done his best to quit – because, truth be told, if Hannah asked him to jump off a bridge, he would do it in a heartbeat, just to make her happy.

Every once in a while, though, the merciless grip of addiction would find a hold again, and he'd fall back into the habit. This, unfortunately, was one of those times.

Hannah twisted her neck, straining to see his face in the darkness. "And what are you bothered about, hmm?" Hannah pulled back, smiling up at him. When her eyes fell across the bruise that lined his right eye, her smile quickly faded. "Elijah! What happened?" she asked concerned, lightly brushing her fingers across his cheek so as not to aggravate the injury.

Even the slight touch caused him to wince a little, involuntarily. He shook his head, trying to get out of reach of her gentle fingers. "It's… it's nothing, Hannah. I just rolled off my bed this morning. Knocked my head against the night table. That's all." Bolt swallowed, hating the fact that he had just lied to her, but knowing full well that she wouldn't understand the truth. had to figure something out – and fast, or this wouldn't be the only lie he would have to tell the girl.

She was still watching him with worried eyes, and Bolt sighed heavily, pointedly avoiding her gaze while trying to make it appear as if that was not what he was doing. "Don't worry," He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, waving off her unspoken questions. "C'mon, it's getting late, I'll walk you home."

Hannah nodded absently, slipping out from his grasp, and taking his proffered elbow, instead. Without another word, she allowed him to lead her down the fire escape. She wasn't satisfied with his answer but she also wasn't ready to push him for the truth; she could only hope that he would come to her soon, and together they could figure out whatever it was that was making him act like this.

They walked close together, neither saying much during the twenty minutes it took to get from his boarding house to hers. Arriving at her front steps, they both paused.

"Goodnight," Hannah smiled up at him, gently squeezing his arm before pulling her hand back. She bowed her head for a moment, waiting to see how he would respond, before nodding and hurrying up the steps, glad to be getting out of the cold.

He watched her go. "Goodnight, Hannah," he replied, waiting – watching – as she entered the house and clicked the lock behind her. As soon as she was safe inside, Bolt turned and began headed back towards his own home. He shoved his hands in his pockets, walking with his head down, once more losing himself to his thoughts.

_He didn't even notice when the shadows to his left shifted, a figure slipping out from an alley, creeping up next to him. He did, however, notice the searing pain to his left cheekbon__e__ as a fist connected with a loud crack. Through his pain, he spun around, fists clenched, ready to defend himself. Bolt paused when he saw the boy standing there. He couldn't have been much older th__a__n thirteen and he was cradling his injured hand close to his stomach. Bolt clenched his teeth in irritation, letting his fists drop back down to his sides. _

_"What, are they not teaching you to fight before they send you out now?" Bolt __asked,__ an edge to his voice. "My skull is a lot harder th__a__n your fist."_

_The boy glared up at him, trying to look menacing__ "__Shaddup__," h__e spat, "__th__is__ here__ is a warning.__Ya__ got two days to make your decision. The boss said you'd know where to meet him.__" __And, wi__th that, he kicked some dirt in Bolt's direction before taking off down the street. _

_Bolt watched him run, absentmindedly rubbing his cheek, wincing at the bruised feeling that was already spreading. He hated sucker punches. If someone was going to start a fight, they ought to at least have the decency to start a fair one. _

_Sighing, he__ turned, once again starting back towards his home, still lost in thought, but having the presence of mind to keep his eyes __sharp. He__ scann__ed__ the streets and alleyways as best he could in the darkness. He knew he shouldn't be surprised. Bolt released a__nother__ heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. _

_Two days. That was all the time he had__…_

Hannah climbed the stairs to the small room she shared with her sister. She was tired, and she knew Elisabeth wouldn't be happy about her coming in so late. She would tell her how improper her behavior was.

A bit wary, and still worried about Elijah, she fitted her key into the lock on the door. Hannah tried to open it as silently as possible, hoping her sister was still asleep. She winced when the handle jangled loudly in the door. She didn't know why they even bothered locking it; the knob was so loose that one could just push the door and it would open.

She entered the room, sighing when she saw that Elisabeth was still awake, sitting up in bed, reading an ad from today's newspaper. No doubt it was all about the latest fashion trends, Hannah thought in spite of herself, smiling at Elisabeth before turning to shut the door behind her.

"Ellie, you're up late," Hannah said, tugging her gloves off, and placing them on the small dresser.

"Hannah, you're out late," was her elder sister's tart reply. "You weren't with that boy again, were you?"

Hannah didn't answer right away, carefully pulling the pins from her hair, allowing the light brown curls to fall across her back. Only then did she say, "He's not '_that boy'_, Ellie. His name is Elijah. And yes, he was kind enough to walk me home, tonight." She conveniently left out the fact that she had gone to see him at his boarding house after work; Elisabeth, as far as she was concerned, did not need to know that.

"What were you doing out so late, anyway? You weren't still working, were you? Hannah, Mr. Morrison, shouldn't be working you so late."

Hannah sighed as she continued to get ready for bed. She quickly changed from her clothes before pulling her nightgown on and sliding under the covers of the small bed. Once she was lying next to her sister, she turned to face her."No, Ellie…" she answered, knowing the only reason her sister was asking was because she was concerned for her. Ever since their parents had gone back to their homeland, Elisabeth had felt the need to become a second mother to her younger sister. Even if the only age difference was a year…

_Ana Evans wrung her hand nervously, looking from one daughter to the other, as if memorizing their features__ "Are you sure you want to stay here, Elisabeth? You girls shouldn't be separated from your father and I, you're too young! Come back with us, you can learn the language when we get there. Papa and I will even teach you some on the ship."__ The older woman sounded pleading as if now, with the journey back home eminent, she could convince her daughters to join them on their voyage._

_Elisabeth smiled tightly at her mother, unbidden tears filling her eyes__, as she shook her head firmly. __"No, Mama, __New York__ is our place. I don't want to learn another language__ or__ another country's customs.__ This is home.__"_

_John Evans interrupted, placing a weathered hand on his wife's shoulder__ "__And t__his is what you wanted, Ana. You promised yourself when you came over here, all those years ago, you promised your future children would be Americans, through and through. And they are. Let them be Americans. Ellie's eighteen now, she'll watch over Hannah. Say your goodbyes, __dear. T__he ship will be boarding soon__"_

_Ana's eyes overflowed, tears streaming down over her plump cheeks; she reached out, pulling both her girls into a long hug__ "You look out for each other, you hear? You're all __the other __ha__s__ now."_

_All three of them were crying by the time they pulled away, and when Hannah looked over at her father, she noticed even his eyes were moist with emotion._

_Hannah and Elisabeth stood together as the ship pulled away from land, holding hands, and crying silently until they could no longer make out the forms of their parents, standing on the deck and waving to them._

_"C'mon, __Hannie__," Elisabeth said, wiping her cheeks with a dainty handkerchief, "We'd best go back to the boarding house, and make sure we have everything we need."_

_Hannah hesitated a moment, wanting just one more glance of her parents, before __giving__ in to her sister's tugging on her sleeve__. She then__ allow__ed__ herself to be led back to the boarding house, the place they would come to know as home. _

"Hannah, did you hear me?" Elisabeth asked, for what must have been the second time.

Shaking her head, clearing her thoughts, she met her sister's worried gaze. "What?" Hannah said, pulling herself out of her memories.

"Don't say "what" Hannah, it's uncouth," Elisabeth reprimanded before taking a deep breath. "And I asked you were you'd been, if you weren't at work."

"Oh. I went to see Becky after work. I told her I'd bring her some ribbon. She's courting Stephen Miller, you know," she replied, skillfully steering the conversation away from herself. What she said was not a lie – she had gone to see Becky after work – but that was, before she had gone to see Elijah.

It worked like a charm. "Stephen Miller? Well, he's too good for her. I thought for sure he was going to begin courting you soon, Hannah." Elisabeth said, as she leaned over and blew out the kerosene lamp that was resting on the side table.

Hannah turned away from her sister, curling up on her side in an attempt to find a comfortable position on the stiff mattress. "No, Ellie, he's courting Becky," she murmured, ignoring Elisabeth's jab at her friend, "and I'm courting Elijah."

Elisabeth snorted in a most unladylike manner saying, "You can't call that courting, Hannah. He's never come to call and, you know, Ms. Brennen has a very nice parlor set up for gentlemen callers. She was just telling me today that she was expecting you to start courting soon. And, really, Hannah, he's not worth your time. You're a very pretty girl, I'm sure there's a nice young man that would be willing to court you."

Hannah sighed in resignation. This was not the first time she and her sister had had this conversation and she was sure it would not be the last. "Well, Ms. Brennen is a busybody. And I don't want to court any other 'nice young men' if all that's attracting them to me is my looks. Honestly, Ellie, you act as if that's the only thing a man is looking for."

Her sister's curt laugh rang out through the darkness and into her ear. "Hannah, your naivety is actually quite endearing. Get some sleep, sister dear, tomorrow will come early."

Hannah had to grit her teeth to refrain from responding. She reminded herself once again that Elisabeth only meant what was best for her. She just did realize that Elijah _was _what was best for her.


End file.
